


write you off

by daysanddaysanddays



Series: body writing 'verse [1]
Category: Fall Out Boy
Genre: Body Writing, Dom/sub, Established Relationship, Humiliation, M/M, Spanking
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-16
Updated: 2017-02-16
Packaged: 2018-09-24 23:20:39
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,754
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9791606
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/daysanddaysanddays/pseuds/daysanddaysanddays
Summary: “You do a good job of hiding it, don’t you?” Pete says. “But I don’t think you should be hiding it. You and I both know what you are. Why try to deny it?”





	

**Author's Note:**

> this was beta'd by the wonderful [peatreck](http://archiveofourown.org/users/peatreck/pseuds/peatreck), who also thought of the title. any remaining mistakes are mine !

The first time Pete does it, it's a surprise.

It’s a relatively new facet of their relationship, the BDSM thing. When they’d first started they’d switched quite a bit, but nowadays it’s pretty exclusively Patrick subbing for Pete. With Patrick being such a perfectionistic, controlling person in so many other aspects of his life, it's a relief, really, to let someone else take control for a little while. And Pete-- well, Pete just likes making Patrick happy, mostly. It's no skin off his back to take control for a little bit.

The point being, they've barely gone past the basics. So when Pete's got Patrick tied spread eagle on a hotel bed, lying flat on his stomach, Patrick's not expecting much more than just that. He almost flinches when he suddenly hears Pete’s voice right next to his ear.

"I want to try something new tonight," he says in a low voice, one of his hands just resting lightly between Patrick's shoulder blades.

"What is it?"

Pete answers his question with a question. "Do you trust me?"

Patrick has to turn his head toward Pete at that and give him a disbelieving look.

"Pete," he says. "You literally have me tied to the bed right now. Of course I trust you."

"Okay," Pete says. "Then trust me."

So Patrick takes a deep breath and turns his face back toward the headboard.

"Good," Pete says. "I think you're gonna like it."

Patrick can feel the weight of the bed shift as Pete moves, can hear his footsteps as he pads around the hotel room looking for something. When Pete gets back on the bed, he straddles Patrick's lower back, lays both of his hands lightly on Patrick's shoulder blades. The contact makes Patrick shiver.

"You know," Pete starts. He's using a conversational tone, as if he doesn't have Patrick stripped naked and tied down under him. "I've noticed something the past few times we've done this."

Patrick starts to respond, but Pete laces a hand in his hair and tugs a little bit. "Quiet," he says. "You’re not allowed to talk right now."

Patrick feels something release throughout his body as he complies. He always seems to forget just how good submitting is until he's doing it, how good it feels to just let go.

"As I was saying," Pete continues, releasing Patrick’s hair. “I’ve noticed something lately. Maybe you have too, but I doubt it. Dumb whores like you don’t usually notice much of anything.”

Patrick’s reaction is immediate. His entire body tenses up and his cock hardens further. His cheeks burn red and he knows it’s only a matter of time before the blush spreads to the rest of his preternaturally pale skin. He feels hot all over.

Pete chuckles a little bit, and Patrick can tell that he’s smirking, that he’s… _amused_ by Patrick’s response. It only makes Patrick more aroused. “That’s what I thought, slut.”

Patrick can’t help the shaky breath he lets out, feeling as though he’s been punched in the stomach. He knew he liked being called names, God knows why, but it’s not like he was planning on bringing it up to Pete. Pete had only done it a few times before, and while it did get to Patrick like little else did, he still hadn’t figured out how to bring it up outside of a scene. Besides, he was content with everything else.

He hadn’t counted on Pete noticing.

“You do a good job of hiding it, don’t you?” Pete says. “But I don’t think you should be hiding it. You and I both know what you are. Why try to deny it?”

Pete shifts a little bit, sliding lower on Patrick’s back so that he’s sitting right above the cleft of Patrick’s ass. Patrick still doesn’t know what Pete’s planning on doing, so the clicking noise comes as a surprise. It sounds like he’s…

The tip touches the skin on his back just as he figures it out. Pete’s writing on him. _Pete’s writing on him_.

He tries to concentrate on the shape of the letters Pete’s tracing out, but he can’t figure out what’s being written on his back, too distracted by the sensation of being marked like this, the way the marker drags over his skin, the feel of Pete’s nails digging into his back.

It’s not long before Pete caps the marker again. “There,” he says, and then, without warning, slaps Patrick’s ass hard, making Patrick gasp into the comforter as Pete’s hand hits his skin.

“I want you to count them for me,” Pete says, his tone making it clear that this is an order, not a request.

Pete seems to be waiting for some sort of response from Patrick, so he says, “One,” unable to keep the note of uncertainty out of his voice. He hates being unsure of what Pete wants from him, but he knows he got it right when Pete’s hand comes down on his other cheek, just as hard.

Pete sets a mostly predictable rhythm, allowing Patrick to sink into it. He doesn’t know how long Pete intends to do this, so when Patrick chokes out, “Fifteen,” he’s expecting another one, not the sound of Pete’s voice.

“Good job,” Pete says. He’s using the same tone he might use with a child and that, too, goes straight to Patrick’s leaking dick. “I didn’t think a skank like you could count that high.”

Patrick couldn’t have helped the whine he let out at that even if he tried. He thinks that maybe he should be concerned by just how much this is getting to him, but he can’t be bothered, not when it gets him feeling this hot.

“Well, I suppose you deserve a reward for that,” Pete says, contemplative. Patrick makes a noise of assent into the sheets, but Pete ignores him. “Do you want me to fuck your hole, slut? You can respond.”

It’s like a floodgate has been opened, and Patrick can’t stop himself from talking. “Yes, fuck, yes, please, please Pete, please fuck me, please, I need you inside me, please, please fuck me.”

Sometime during his desperate rambling Pete must have gotten the lube, because he’s only just finished when he feels one of Pete’s slick fingers pressing up against his entrance. Pete is thorough but quick as he opens Patrick up, and by the time Pete’s got three fingers in him, Patrick’s panting into the sheets, desperate for Pete’s cock.

“Pete, please, I’m ready, fuck me,” he grits out, trying to push himself back into Pete’s fingers to little success, his bindings too tight to provide him with that option.

Pete laughs. “Someone’s desperate for cock,” he says, but it seems to do the trick because it’s only moments later that Pete pulls his fingers out. Patrick hears Pete roll a condom onto his dick, and then he’s lining up at Patrick’s entrance.

Pete leans down and fists Patrick’s hair again, pulling his head up. “Don’t come until I say you can,” he says. Patrick doesn’t have time to respond before Pete’s releasing his hair and slowly pushing himself into Patrick.

Patrick lets out a moan as Pete’s hips come to rest against his ass. They haven’t had time for real, penetrative sex in quite a while, and he’d missed having Pete’s dick inside of him.

Pete grunts. “You’re pretty tight for a whore,” he says, and Patrick can only whimper in response as the words hit him once more.

Pete establishes a pretty quick rhythm, opting for speed rather than depth. Patrick wants him deeper, but he also knows that if Pete goes deeper it’ll be harder to stop himself from cumming, and he wants to be good for Pete. Wants to do what’s been asked of him.

He can tell Pete’s getting close because his rhythm’s stuttering a little bit, but Patrick’s not expecting it when Pete pulls himself all the way out. Patrick whines at the loss and again tries unsuccessfully to push back, chasing Pete’s cock.

There’s a sharp sting as Pete slaps his ass once more. “Quit it, whore,” he says. “You don’t decide what happens here.”

Patrick hears Pete take the condom off and makes a disappointed sound in the back of his throat. Pete laughs again. “Damn, you really are desperate for it,” he says, his voice gone breathier. Patrick can vaguely hear the sound of skin on skin over his own pants, and figures Pete’s finishing himself off with his hand.

It’s still a surprise, though, when Pete releases a long, drawn out, “Fuuuuuck,” and his cum starts to hit Patrick’s back. There are a few more pulses before Pete’s spent, and he climbs off the bed, leaving Patrick still hard and desperate to cum, afraid Pete is done and isn’t going to let him come tonight.

A few seconds later, though, Patrick hears the click of Pete’s camera phone, making him shudder. Patrick hadn’t been sure about allowing Pete to take photos at first, but he likes it now, likes knowing that Pete has proof of what Patrick’s really like, likes how it makes him feel like something Pete’s entitled to take pictures of.

“The way you look right now,” Pete says, pulling Patrick out of his reverie. Patrick, guessing what’s coming next, is unsurprised when Pete once again moves to the head of the bed.

“Look,” he says, one of his hands on Patrick’s chin, firmly tilting Patrick’s head toward him, toward the phone. Patrick can’t help the shaky gasp he lets out at the photo.

His back is pink from the combination of exertion and humiliation, and right in the middle, stark in black marker, Pete has spelled out “COCKWHORE” in all caps. Pete’s cum isn’t easy to make out in the shitty photo, but knowing it’s there helps Patrick spot it. His ass is bright red from Pete hitting him. The photo cuts off at his spread thighs, but it’s clear from what’s there that he’s restrained, the position unnatural otherwise.

He looks… used. He _feels_ used right now, in the best way possible, with the way Pete brought himself off using Patrick’s body as he saw fit after Patrick begged him to do so. He hadn’t expected that to come through in the photo, but it does, plain and clear.

Most of all, though, his eyes are fixated on the words, the way they stand out against his pale skin, unmissable and unmistakable. He pinches his eyes shut, suddenly unable to keep looking.

Pete laughs, full of derision, and Patrick gets harder still, which he didn’t even think was possible at this point. “Can’t handle the truth, huh?” he says. Patrick doesn’t respond, doesn’t know if he’s allowed to.

“You can come,” Pete says, “if you tell me what you are.”

Patrick’s eyes are still shut tightly, but it doesn’t even matter -- the image is imprinted in his brain. He knows what Pete wants him to say, and he wants to come so badly, but he’s having trouble getting the words out, saying what’s already written.

He’s not expecting the slap when it comes. It’s not hard by any means, can’t be with the angle, but it’s enough of a shock that his eyes fly open. Pete’s no longer holding his phone, just looking at Patrick. It’s a look that says he knows he’s going to get what he wants.

“Tell me what you are, Patrick,” he says, his eyes not leaving Patrick’s.

“A. A cockwhore,” Patrick chokes out, and he’s suddenly more aware of the words on his back. It feels like he’s been branded.

“Try again,” Pete says. “Tell me what _you_ are.”

And Patrick is so embarrassed, Pete’s gaze piercing as he responds, “I’m… I’m a cockwhore.”

“Come again?” Pete asks, and Patrick wants to die. Patrick knows he heard, knows Pete’s just fucking with him. When Patrick doesn’t respond right away, he asks again, his voice steelier than before. “What are you, Patrick?”

“I’m a cockwhore,” he says, mortified and turned on and mortified because he’s turned on. He imagines that he can feel the words seeping into his skin, growing deeper and more permanent.

“That’s right,” Pete says, his tone satisfied. “You’re a cockwhore, and there’s no sense in hiding it when we both know it.” He puts a hand around the back of Patrick’s neck and squeezes briefly before letting go.

Patrick squeezes his eyes shut, reopening them just in time to see Pete begin to walk away. “You can come now, if you want,” he says, not even looking at Patrick anymore, disposing the condom and putting the lube back in the pocket of the suitcase they packed it in. “Well?” he asks a few moments later, when Patrick still hasn’t done anything. “Are you going to come or not? I can’t wait all day.”

It’s the disinterest that does him in, that makes him start rubbing himself against the mattress like a fucking teenager. All things considered, he gets close to coming way too quickly, but he doesn’t care, can’t care when it feels like he’s been on the edge for hours. He lets out a wail as his orgasm finally overcomes him, not having the sense to quiet himself when he’s this far gone.

He feels Pete begin to undo the bonds on his feet only moments after he comes, hands careful. Patrick closes his legs the second he can, his thighs tense and aching from being in position for so long. Pete gets to his hands shortly after, kissing Patrick’s wrists where they’ve been rubbing against the restraints. As much as Patrick likes being so immobilized by the ropes, it’s nice to be able to move his limbs again.

Pete disappears for a minute or so while Patrick is rolling his shoulders, wiggling his toes to get feeling back. When Pete returns, Patrick feels a damp towel on his back, presumably to wipe off Pete’s cum. Once Pete’s finished with that, Patrick rolls over onto his back, smiling at Pete.

“Hey,” he says, still feeling almost high from his orgasm. He’s sore in all the right ways and places.

“Hey yourself,” Pete says, smiling back. He lies down on the bed next to Patrick, facing the same direction and encasing Patrick in his arms. He strokes his hand up and down Patrick’s arm, a light, repetitive motion that helps Patrick recenter himself.

Once Patrick feels completely back to normal, he wriggles out of Pete’s arms, ignoring Pete’s noise of protest. “I’ll be right back, you big baby. I’m just putting on my boxers,” he says, snorting at the exaggerated pout Pete’s giving him. Secretly, he agrees with Pete, but he hates sleeping in the nude, and Pete definitely tired him out enough that he’ll probably fall asleep within the next few minutes.

Pete doesn’t even give him a chance to settle in before he’s once again pulling Patrick to his chest. Patrick can feel Pete’s heartbeat against his back, a regular and soothing sensation that makes Patrick smile to himself. He’s almost drifted off when he hears Pete ask, “Was that okay?”

It takes a second for Patrick to register what Pete’s said, but once he does, he shifts himself so that he and Pete are facing each other. “Yeah,” Patrick says after a few beats of silence. “Yeah, that was… really good, actually. Especially, um. Especially the writing.”

Patrick tucks his head into Pete’s shoulder, embarrassed despite everything that happened earlier.

Pete’s fingers skim down Patrick’s back, resting his hand right above where Patrick knows the word still rests. The feeling of casual possession in the touch, in addition to the reminder of what’s been written, gives Patrick goosebumps.  

“I was pretty sure you’d like that,” Pete says eventually. “I’m glad I was right.” After a pause, he adds, “I liked it, too. More than I thought I would.”

Patrick doesn’t know how to respond to that, so he doesn’t, just presses a kiss into Pete’s shoulder, feeling Pete respond with a kiss to the top of his head moments later. They fall asleep like that, Pete’s hand still resting next to the word on Patrick’s back.

The next morning when they shower together, Patrick’s only a little surprised that part of him wants to ask Pete not to wash it off. He doesn’t say anything, though, and relaxes as Pete scrubs his back until there’s only a faint trace remaining of what was there just minutes before.

**Author's Note:**

> there will be more of this verse in the future bc We Need More Body Writing Porn 2k17 and i'm prepared to make it happen if it's the last thing i do
> 
> this is only my second attempt of writing smut ever so please leave a comment and let me know what you liked/disliked/wished there was more of, etc !!


End file.
